


ready aim shoot

by kingdra (aroceu)



Series: Generosity [37]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, trouble in paradise oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/kingdra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know.” Louis squeezes her against him, in case she gets the wrong idea (though he’s not entirely sure what the wrong idea is.) “We’re wonderful right now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	ready aim shoot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thistidalwave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/gifts).



> Happy birthday Jenny/twitter user thistidalwave/ao3 user teaboytoaliens :)
> 
> I am not sure what the title has to do with the fic meh also plot sort of happened so?? x__x

When Eleanor calls him, Louis’s drunk off his arse at some bar down with Liam. Liam’s in the bathroom, actually, snogging some girl, and Louis’s ringtone (which is _Best Song Ever_ , and Louis isn’t too surprised since Niall had changed all their ringtones to that during the summer and Louis hasn’t gotten around to change it) blares like an alarm in his ears.

“Hello?” he hears himself say. He also hears himself giggle.

“Hi, Louis,” says Eleanor’s voice.

It’s not what he _needs_ to hear right now, Louis supposes, but he continues giggling anyways.

He exclaims, “El! What’s up. What’s new with you, mate?”

Eleanor’s laugh is much louder over the speakerphone than the music blaring around him. “Nothing, I was just wondering,” she says, “if you were still coming over tonight.”

“What?” Louis’s head clears, momentarily. Right, he’d made plans to go over to Eleanor’s tonight. Shit.

Liam comes out of the bathroom then, looking all flushed and well-snogged. “Alright there?” Louis thinks he says, because he can’t really tell with all this noise.

Louis nods. “I’m fine,” he says. He thinks he pulled his phone away. He’s not sure.

And then, to Eleanor, “Yeah--Yeah, I’m still coming over tonight!”

“Okay.” Eleanor doesn’t sound impatient with him. “Like, in an hour?”

“Sure,” says Louis, and then hangs up.

*

On the cab right there, he can’t quite figure out why he’d forgotten that he’d promised Eleanor to come over today. It’s not that Eleanor’s in dire need of his attention, or anything--she’s the greatest, really, because he’s constantly on tour or doing an interview or a show or _something_ or other with the boys for his job and whatnot. Eleanor doesn’t have a problem with any of it at all, and Louis rests his forehead against the cool glass window, smiling.

Perhaps at some point he might’ve wished that she’d have a problem with it. That she’d call him and demand his attention, or something of the sort.

She had been the one to ask him over this evening. Well, he supposes at some level he’d instigated it, texting her that he’d be free today and her asking if he’d be free enough for her.

When he arrives at her flat, he’s still a little tipsy but hugs her all the same. Eleanor laughs into his shoulder and says, “You smell so bad.”

“ _Sor_ -ry,” Louis intones, digging his nose into her neck. He rubs it there and tickles her, and she giggles and attempts to push him off.

“How was your day?” she asks, when they pull apart.

Louis shrugs. “Fine. Ate with the boys. I spend too much time with them,” he says.

Eleanor shoves him, lightly. “You don’t mean that,” she says.

“I don’t,” Louis affirms. He offers his arm out to her. “Bedroom?”

“Bathroom first, but I’ll meet you there.” Eleanor winks.

Louis admires her arse as she walks away. He looks around: her flat, as always, is clean, looking a little bit lived in. He wonders why he hasn’t actually moved in with her yet, seeing as they’ve been together for quite a few years, and she’s practically best friends with his mum, and has his timetable memorised inside out.

He remembers when he’d told the presses that he and Harry had talked about living together during X Factor and everyone had taken it so _seriously_. He hadn’t thought it much of a big deal, but now he thinks he might understand.

In Eleanor’s bedroom, he collapses onto her bed and--stupidly--buries his face into her pillow. It smells like her, fresh and sweet and soft.

He hears footsteps and Eleanor’s amused voice say, “What’re you doing?”

“Sleeping,” says Louis.

“You’re not sleeping.”

There are more footsteps, and then Eleanor’s sitting on his back. Louis goes, “oof!” and tries to roll over, landing her on the bed.

“You’re a torture, woman,” he says to her jokingly.

Eleanor leans over so their foreheads are pressing together, and says, “That’s exactly what I want to achieve.”

She kisses him, and it’s been so _long_ \--distantly, Louis thinks of Liam snogging all sorts of girls all the time, and wonders how he can do that when Eleanor is honestly just enough for him. He eagerly kisses her back, threading his fingers into her long hair; she makes a little pleased noise that sends excitement down to his cock, tugging them closer.

She fucks him today, the shoulder of her blouse slipping, and he’s sprawled out naked under her, gripping onto her hips. He runs a finger against her belly and she laughs because he knows she’s ticklish there, and she presses her smile against his lips.

“How’re you doing?” she breathes, looking into his eyes.

Louis manages a, “Fine.” Eleanor’s still grinding down on his dick, and he’s sure ready to come at any moment.

She kisses him again a few minutes later and that’s what sends him over the edge. Eleanor’s off of him then, holding onto his thighs and going down at his cock so he comes all over her face. He watches, and god it’s so _hot_ , Eleanor with her mouth open, wanting it.

He gets her off with several strokes, watching her arch into his touch like it’s the greatest thing in the world. Eleanor makes a lot of noise when she comes, all breathless gasps and moans as she leans over Louis, knees pressing into her bedsheets.

“That’s all you’re here for?” she asks, when Louis lies down and she tries to get up.

Louis pulls her down by the waist and she yelps in his arms. “Pretty much,” he says, nuzzling into her neck.

“We could play FIFA or something.” Eleanor’s good at FIFA. She and Zayn make a better team than he does with her.

“‘m tired.” Louis tightens his arms around her.

Eleanor sighs, but Louis is pretty sure she’s smiling. “What about food? You aren’t hungry?”

This isn’t untrue, and Louis’s stomach actually rumbles at the mention. Eleanor pauses for a moment and then laughs. She pokes him.

“Give it a moment,” Louis says.

He holds her for a little longer. He says, “We’re good for now. Like, not forever-good, but just now.”

Eleanor tenses up in his arms. “What?”

“You know.” Louis squeezes her against him, in case she gets the wrong idea (though he’s not entirely sure what the wrong idea is.) “We’re wonderful right now.”

Eleanor is still tense, and Louis tries to bring her closer, to make sure she isn’t. “Okay,” she says, and Louis might think she’s all right.

But she crawls out of his hold a few minutes later and pads outside, giving Louis the opportunity to look only at her arse again but not her face. When he gets up, she’s started on some sort of eleven o’clock dinner and doesn’t meet his eyes when she responds to his greeting,

He stays the night and they don’t have sex again, which is fine. Eleanor falls asleep while they’re watching the television and eating, and he turns out the lights and leaves their dishes on the coffee table and carries her to bed. In the morning, he wakes up before her, too--which has happened sometimes, especially if he’s busy the next day. He leaves, putting a little note on the kitchen counter for her. He kisses it before he leaves.

He kisses her, too.

*

He doesn’t contact her until a week and a half later, when the other lads are mostly asleep (though Niall may be playing on his phone) and he’s uncomfortably horny in his bunk. He could wank off by himself, but Louis takes quite a bit of pride of being the only one out of the five of them who’s been able to keep a steady girlfriend at the longest without being caught doing anything with someone else.

(If he hadn’t pointed this out to Zayn, he’s sure that he would’ve been made best man in a heartbeat.)

He texts Eleanor, though it’s only _I’m about to call you right now, if that’s okay_. He does and the phone rings, Louis waiting for the missed sound of her voice and imagining her smell.

But her phone rings for too long and it goes to voicemail and Louis is confused. He texts her again.

_Are you there? It’s only 10:00._

And then, when she hasn’t replied to that either:

_Eleanor?_

*

(He refuses to go to bed achingly hard, though, so he imagines what it’d be like if she’d answered her phone.

 _What’re you wearing_ , he’d ask, and Eleanor would giggle and respond with something like, _Well I’m taking my shirt off, so I’m in a light pink bra and jeans, I guess. Nothing exciting._

 _Pretty exciting to me_ , Louis’s would say. _Wish I could take your bra off, too. Wish I could feel your tits and kiss all over them._

 _Mm._ Eleanor would giggle because she’s ticklish there, too; they’re both ticklish all over their torsos and it kind of results in the best sex, when they’re taking it slow.

 _I’ll suck your cock_ , Eleanor would say, _kissing you at the head, rolling your balls between my fingers. Putting my fingers around you and wanking you into my mouth--_

 _Eleanor_ , he’d groan, and then he’s coming, real Louis is coming, into his hand and he rolls over as he does, to where his phone is digging into his cheek.

It’s not as good as it should’ve been and he’s not sure if it would’ve been much different if Eleanor had picked up her phone. But Eleanor hasn’t even texted him back yet, and he wipes himself off, trying not to think of that, or what the Eleanor in his fantasies would be saying, right now.)

*

It takes another week for him to realize that maybe something is actually _wrong_ , and then it feels like he might be over a week too late. Too late since he’d last talked to her, which had been several hours before he’d last seen her.

He’s on a van on the way to some show and the other boys are yelling all over the place. He texts her, _Can I come over today?_

“Louis!” Zayn shouts, and throws part of his breakfast at him. Louis laughs and throws it back, half a mind still on Eleanor.

While they’re doing the show, Louis suddenly imagines Eleanor texting something back like, _If you remember to_ , and tries to forget it, insists that she wouldn’t say something like that.

He doesn’t get a response until around lunchtime, and it’s just a little _okay_ that makes Louis feel like he should’ve noticed something was wrong much earlier before today.

Most of the time when he goes over it’s the evening and he stays either overnight or as long as a week with her. But it’s a Thursday and the afternoon when they’re let off and he doesn’t know how long he’ll stay, or how long she’ll let him stay. And he doesn’t know why he’s unsure of that, but he is.

“Where’re you going?” Niall asks when Louis grabs his messenger bag to leave.

“El’s,” he says, and Zayn, who’s inexplicably playing something on Niall’s phone right next to him, rolls his eyes.

“Harry’s gone over to Grimshaw’s, and now you’re leaving us too,” he says. “What d’you expect us to do, wait until you come back?”

Louis shrugs. “Liam’s going out again tonight, if you wanna join him.” He pulls his jacket on. “Eleanor’s not been replying to most of my texts, anyways.”

Zayn sings, “Trouble in paradise,” and Niall laughs. Louis tosses a stray wadded up napkin at them on the way out.

*

On the cab ride there, he’s not particularly nervous though as soon as he gets out, he feels that he should be. He’s the one who wanted to come here, but that doesn’t mean Eleanor would be unable to break up with him. He doesn’t think she would, because they’re too close and he’s said so much that breaking up with him would only allow her to--

But she wouldn’t break up with him to divulge the paparazzi with all of One Direction’s secrets. Eleanor wouldn’t do that. She’d be quiet and respectable and Louis would feel that he never deserved her in the first place.

He’s bouncing on his feet when he rings her flat. She looks only mildly surprised when she sees him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

Eleanor opens the door and he steps in. It looks the same as usual, only--Louis isn’t sure if he should take off his jacket yet so he doesn’t, and goes over to a couch in the sitting room.

He doesn’t know why he expects the dishes from last time to still be on the coffee table, considering it’s been ages. He blinks. Eleanor would’ve washed them the next morning, because she has a life outside of him, and-- He internally shakes his head.

Eleanor sits at another couch, not next to him. Louis scuffles his feet on the carpet.

“How’re you?” he asks after a minute. Eleanor’s mostly just looking down at her hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Louis hears her say spitefully in his head _d’you wanna go wank in my room or something_ and it sounds like something he deserves. He says, instead, “I’ve been-- You haven’t really been answering my texts, lately.”

Eleanor’s still staring down at her hands. “Mm,” she says.

This feels ridiculous. Louis is sure it’s his fault. “I love you,” he tries.

Eleanor glances at him. A minute later she’s asking her fingers, “When do you think we’ll break up?”

“What?” Louis asks, and his head is furiously chanting _no no no no no nonononono._

Eleanor meets his eyes again. She has a smile on her face, which makes Louis’s stomach do a little flip, and it’s unpleasant, not like the time he first saw her at a party Harry had dragged him to and she first looked at him and his heart turned over in his throat.

She says, “I love you too, and I know you d-- We _are_ good for now, Louis.”

She says, “And then that’ll stop?”

Louis knows he’s not crying, but he’s the one staring down at his hands now. “No,”  he hears himself say, and it suddenly occurs to him that he marks his days by the time he’s with the boys, days he has with Eleanor by the time with the boys, days until One Direction isn’t anymore and Eleanor’ll be-- “I don’t want to stop,” he says.

Eleanor sits next to him. She takes his hands and says, “We’ll be fine, I just want to know--” She bites her lip. “You’ll be okay if I’m still here tomorrow,” she says.

“Of course,” Louis automatically replies, and it’s the _of course_ that pushes him to kissing her, too. She doesn’t pull away. “I will, I’m just not very good at being sure.”

“You’ve contradicted yourself there,” Eleanor says, and she’s smiling. Louis kisses her again, on the cheek.

“I suppose I’m too,” Eleanor says, “hopeful or whatever.”

“That’s what makes you beautiful,” Louis says into her neck.

Eleanor laughs and hits him with a pillow and says, “ _God_ , you’re the worst!” Louis whacks her pillow back with another and then they’re fighting with their pillows, laughing and Louis trying to shout out song lyrics to her only to be met with a mouthful of fabric.

*

That evening she fucks him into her mattress and then they eat pasta in bed. Louis tells her that he’ll buy a zoo for her next birthday and she says, “I’d prefer an aquarium.”

“No, you’re getting a zoo,” he says, and she jabs a meatball into his eye.

Some reruns are playing on the television. Louis remembers that he has a photoshoot the next few days, and his phone is outside in the sitting room.

Eleanor looks up at him and asks, “Is there something?”

“Just--busyness and things.” Louis waves his hand. “Not now, though.”

“Text me when you need to,” says Eleanor. “Or don’t need to. I’ll actually text back this time, I promise.”

Louis pokes her on the nose. “You better,” he says.

Eleanor kisses the inside of his arm. She leaves a little bit of tomato sauce on him and he goes, “ew!” She says, “You should’ve known what you’re getting into,” and, tickling the sensitive spot behind her ear that she nearly knocks the whole bowl of pasta over, he says, “I do.”

 


End file.
